


Tag, You're It

by Shatterpath



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/F, From early in the movies/books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nocturnal fun, animagus style!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tag, You're It

**Author's Note:**

> Archive permission to Shatterstorm Productions and Archive of Our Own only, please.

Tag, You're It

Deep, dark night. Most of the world slept, only the creatures of the night and the wind in the trees made small sounds. Dappled, deep shadow was broken by a pair of glowing green eyes. Silent and still as death, the animal waited, the only movement the flutter of nostril and whisker. This was her world, her element. The other hunter was doomed to fail.

Satisfied that the way was clear, one soft paw stretched out like a lengthening shadow, and settled soundlessly in the grass. Flowing like water, the grey and black tabby moved from deep shadow to dappled moonlight, every movement calculated and precise. Nothing escaped that piercing gaze.

Except the dark golden plumage of the silent sentinel perched high in the branches above. A creature of daylight, the winged hunter seemed out of place in this world of shadow and darkness. But she had a purpose here, and fought the pull of sleep. Yellow eyes flickered restlessly in the regal face searched the phantasmal, shifting shades of gray.

There!

A careful paw, black stripes not quite matching the surrounding shadows. There was her prey. Too far away yet, for she was no owl with silent wings, and the changing shades wreaked havoc with her day-yellow eyes.  
Patience.

That was the only way to win this game.

Stealthy as smoke and just as silent, the dappled-striped cat skulked across the dewy grass, sparing glances above to warn her if the enemy approached.

It happened blindingly fast.

Between one paw flick and the next, there was a displacement of air, a throaty chuckle of anticipation.  
The 'whoosh' of great wings.

Coiling like a snake, the cat leapt for all she was worth… and got herself a face full of golden feathers. There was the killing pressure of great, wicked talons at pelvis, chest, frighteningly close to the pounding of blood and air in her throat.

Chuckling in triumph, the hawk arched herself over her growling captive, wings splayed possessively, deepening the darkness. They panted in time, pupils dilated, bodies humming with the power of the hunt.  
Grumbling irritably, the cat went limp, surrendered to the successful predator. Screeching , the hawk called to the cloudy sky in triumph.

With a ripple of motion, impossibly quick and graceful, the cat began to change. Elongating and twisting, Minerva McGonagal left her beloved cat form behind, shifting her body with practice so that the flapping, chortling hawk was forced to dance awkwardly until she was perched on a forearm. "It truly is amazing how well you night hunt," she remarked dryly as the bird fluffed up in pleasure, before carefully settling each feather where it was supposed to be.

Preening, the hawk warbled softy, the sound strangely human and intimate, nuzzling the deadly sharp beak against the woman's cheek and lips.

"Flirt," Minerva chuckled and the bird, too, began to change. In moments, Xiomara Hooch was straddling the taller woman, every bit as arrogantly and possessively as she had in her hawk form.

"You'd prefer my kisses with no hooks?" she teased, once more nuzzling the proud face of her partner.

"Quite," Minerva smiled, rolling to her back, there in the wet grass, to pull her lover close to be kissed properly. "You do realize that there are better ways to steal kisses than trying to kill me, yes?"

"But not half as fun."

"Cheeky."

"Quite."

Familiar with the banter, the kisses, the game they played in the dark and daylight both, matching wits as the predators they had long ago learned to emulate, the women cuddled in the cloudy night.

"Next time, I'll have you dearest."

"Oh, don't sulk so, Min. You know perfectly well that it's rare that I have the patience to best you in the dark."

"Well, while feathered anyway."

"Sassy wench."

"Says you."

"And we're quite evenly matched in the daylight."

"Often coming to a draw," Minerva laughed. "Your flight versus my feline versatility."

"And so the game continues yet again."

"Well then, successful one, take me home and make me yours again."

"With the greatest pleasure, my dear!"

One game was over for now, but soon another, even more pleasurable one would begin!


End file.
